The morning Saga.....

It starts with the morning "raga"......

Apparant with the emergence of first light of the dawn,

The ectasy of movements and action begins with birds responding to the eavesdrop from nature.....

The cooking cuckoo, the chirping nightingale mark the arrival of a new day.

A day full of new vigour,hope and stamina , overhauling the spirit.

Old day which once made them writhe and wrench now seems to topple away..

The new Zircon sky adorned with zephyr make particles dance on their own tune and lyrics.

Dew drops sprinkled on new twigs seem to scintillate like replenishing retreats.

The lusture of green grass , the swaying winds, aroma of breeze and the turquoise water in the streams,

all seem to pave way for the day which proceeds.

The rusty doors open with cricking sound , music soothes the compound.

A lycra dotted with agitated particles is how the morning busy road looks.

People to work, children to school laden with zeal, smiles and books,

The day ascends ,and increases the high pitched sounds of street vendors, hawkers, the screetching of brakes, the rustle of wheels, the day proceeds.......... and also proceeds the extravaganza of life, jotted with melodrama, comedy dreams and aspirations.

Now arrives noon, time of sleep,silence and refreshment for some

and dainty , sumptuous lunch for many.

Slowly and steadily with hidden paws descends the day......

and Sun begins attaining its curmudgeon state of insanity,

The cynosure for the time being is none but the setting Sun.

Although this indicates the limit of musical run,

This Saga thus becomes a legend;

A legend whose every word is a celebration of life throughout the day.

So, this celebration in due course of time becomes the enthusiasm to face the challenges put forth by darkness and still be rejuvinating , happy and gay.